


You Make Me Feel So Young

by gutsandglitter



Category: The West Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutsandglitter/pseuds/gutsandglitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series. Jed's first night taking care of baby Elizabeth on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Feel So Young

“No, but what if she gets a high fever?”

“That would be bad.”

“Abbey!”

“Oh relax. If that happens keep an eye on it, if it goes over 103 take her to the ER.”

“Well what if she falls and hits her head?”

“Jed, she’s three months old,” Abbey said with a sigh. “She’ll be in her crib for most of the night. If she falls it’s because you dropped her and quite frankly I don’t want to think about that.” She wrapped her knit scarf around her pale neck and gave it a quick tug, a way to punctuate the fact she was done discussing this.

Jed shuffled from foot-to-foot nervously. “She doesn’t like me as much as you though.”

Abbey softened. “You’re her father, of course she likes you.”

“Yeah, but she’s already figured out who wears the pants in this house. She saves the love for you.”

Abbey smiled and kissed his cheek. “Everything will be fine. You’re pretty easy to love.” She grabbed her bag and walked to the door. She looked over her shoulder one last time and blew a kiss to him before closing the door behind her. 

Jed went to the window and watched her little silver Honda drive off into the Manchester twilight. 

After a few moments he turned and looked at the baby monitor on the coffee table, which was suspiciously quiet. He fiddled with the volume, still getting nothing. He went into the kitchen and rummaged through the junk drawer until he found a screw driver, which he used to undo the back of the baby monitor. He took the batteries out and put them back in. He shook the small device, then rummaged around in the junk drawer until he found a pack of AA batteries, two of which he put into the machine in place of the possibly defective ones. 

Still quiet.

He grumbled and set the monitor down on the counter, striding to the nursery. He carefully eased the door open and tiptoed inside. Elizabeth was there in her crib, sound asleep. Her breathing was soft and easy, Jed watched in fascination as her tiny chest rose and fell with every breath. 

He could have stayed and watched her sleep all night, but he was petrified by the idea of accidentally waking her up. He slowly backed up and out of the room. 

He cast a suspicious glance at the untrustworthy baby monitor, but grabbed it anyway as he headed for the living room. His copy of Euclid’s “Geometry” lay on the sofa where he had left it once he realized that he was about to be solely responsible for an infant’s life and went into the corresponding panic mode. 

He sat down heavily on the couch, placing the baby monitor back on the coffee table. He picked up his book, set it down, and re-checked the volume on the monitor one more time. He picked up his book once more and began to thumb through the pages. 

An hour went by, and he had once again become thoroughly engrossed in Euclid’s work. He didn’t notice it at first, the tiny snuffling sound. It grew in volume until finally Elizabeth let out a high-pitched wail. Jed jumped and his book went flying.

He dashed into the nursery. Elizabeth was now red-faced and screaming, her tiny little hands were balled into tight fists.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, reaching into the crib and picking her up awkwardly. “What’s all this about?”

He carried her to the changing table and checked her diaper. Nothing.

“You hungry?” he asked the squalling infant. “I think we’ve got some leftover steak in the fridge if you’re interested.” His joke fell flat with his audience, if anything it made her cry harder.

He carried her to the kitchen and retrieved one of the bottles of milk Abbey had pumped before leaving. He balanced Elizabeth against his shoulder with one hand while using the other to fill a pot with water and heat it on the stove, just like the Lamaze teacher had showed them. He plunked the bottle in the water and began to pace around the kitchen, patting Elizabeth’s back gently. 

“I know, I know, I didn’t want Nixon to win either. But hey, who knows? Guy might surprise us.” This joke also fell painfully flat.

He pulled the bottle from the pan and squeezed a few drops onto his wrist. He hesitated because it still felt a little cold, but Elizabeth let out another ear-piercing wail and he quickly stuck the bottle in her mouth.

She wrenched up her little face, obviously upset at having been interrupted mid-cry, but she relaxed and began to drink from the bottle. Jed sighed and turned off the stove.

Elizabeth drank greedily from the bottle as Jed meandered back to the sofa. He grabbed a burping towel on his way, just to be on the safe side.

He leaned back into the cushions gently, trying not to disturb his daughter’s meal. After a minute she let out a hiccupping sound and pulled her head back from the bottle. Her gray-blue eyes looked up at the face above her (which was very obviously not her mother’s) and examined him suspiciously. 

“Hey there,” he murmured. 

She continued to stare at him in that magical unblinking way that babies have. He was transfixed by her gaze. They stared at each other for several moments before she blinked and began to squirm.

He moved her up and against his shoulder and began patting her back. “You make me feel so young,” he crooned. “You make me feel like spring has sprung. Every time I see you grin I’m such a happy individual.”

On this last line Elizabeth let out a satisfied burp and Jed grinned. He moved her so he was cradling her and continued to sing to her.

***

“Jed?” Abbey called as she opened the door. “I’m home.”

She unwound the scarf from her neck and hung up her coat in the hall closet.

“I was able to take off a little early,” she said as she walked into the living room, where she stopped dead in her tracks.

On the sofa, her husband and daughter were fast asleep. Elizabeth rested against Jed’s strong chest, and Jed’s head rested on the cushion behind him. Euclid’s “Geometry” lay on the floor beside the sofa, completely forgotten. 

She took a moment to etch the tableau into her memory before tiptoeing forward and placing a kiss on Jed’s forehead.

His eyes opened immediately and he smiled. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey yourself.” She ran a hand through his hair. “So much for her not liking you.”

Jed shrugged and looked down at his sleeping daughter. “I’m starting to think we’ll get along okay.”


End file.
